


high roller

by meshizuru



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Casino AU, Komaeda Nagito's Luck Cycle, M/M, Poker, komaeda literally boutta cum over poker i think, probably a poor understanding of poker. i dont gamble ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meshizuru/pseuds/meshizuru
Summary: Hope Peak Casino: the epicenter of nightlife in Japan. A hotbed of activity, from hosting some of the world’s most infamous gamblers, most exciting performances, and providing some of the best dining there is to offer.It’s only natural that someone like Kamukura Izuru would eventually show up, in search of entertainment of some sorts.Komaeda is the most infamous croupier in the business. Known for his incredible luck, he’s never been beaten by those who challenge him - and, well, he’s quite good at making people blow their money away.Fate should have it that they play a game, one-on-one. All the luck in the world at one table.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70





	high roller

**Author's Note:**

> here comes my first chapter fic for dr, though itll likely be only a handful of chapters. this is from a fun little idea given to me by @hajimetransgenders on instagram, i had to go ahead and write it.
> 
> pardon me if my characterization of izuru is abysmal im still attempting to get a hold on his personality.
> 
> also, mature for now but, yea they're gonna fuck

The luminescence of the poker floor at night is always dreamy, Komaeda has thought. It illuminates his face and hair with different, bright neon colors, flickering with the surrounding machines in the lowlight. His pale skin becomes blue, and a second later red.

He’s always wondered how he got so lucky to work at Hope Peak, an epicenter of nightlife in Japan. Not only to work here, dressed up nicely and dealing cards for various poker games throughout the day, but to become somewhat of a celebrity among those here. To have every game he personally plays in crowded by an anticipating audience.

Of course, it was because of luck. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Raise.”

The clink of chips should be dull to someone like Komaeda now, but it’s like _music_. Watching the pile rise, with such confidence from the opponent...it makes a smirk creep in the corner of his lips, wonder in his eyes as his lips brush against his knuckle, thinking with delight.

Luck aside, he was similarly known for his abysmal poker face. Not that it mattered much.

“Call,” Komaeda hums, keeping his cards close to himself, smoothing his free hand over the fifth card waiting on the table. He flicks his eyes up just over the brim of his pair in hand, hiding his certain smile behind it. They’re lit up with such _joy_. He enjoys his job, far too much, he thinks.

“Here comes the river card,” Komaeda practically sings, watches his opponent lock his eyes on it eagerly, before he flips it.

“Holy _shit_ ,” is the breathless reaction.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one here with a terrible sense of poker face.

Komaeda laughs, resting back a bit, holding his cards in his hands. His lashes flutter as he looks down at them, examining the flop as if perplexed on just what to do. As if he wasn’t holding two queens in his hand, and knew from the minute he’d played the fourth street, exactly what the outcome would be for him.

“Time for the showdown,” Komaeda smiles. “You first, as always.”

He watches his opponent drop the two cards smugly, with a sharp, toothy grin.

“Take a look at _that_ ,” he says, throwing his arms up behind his head, leaning back in his chair. “Perfect as can be. Three, four, straight through that five, six, and seven. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Komaeda’s eyes widen, mouth forming a little ‘o’ in feigned surprise.

“Oh, wonderful, Souda-kun…”

“Aren’t I?!”

“But so _unfortunate_.”

“...Huh?”

Komaeda laughs, beneath his breath, squeaking in the back of his throat. It raises in pitch as he drops his cards on the table, revealing his hand.

“Full House.”

“ ** _What?!_** ” Souda shouts. “What kind of fucking luck is that? How do you _always_ get the best shit?”

“Haha… I did try to warn you, Souda-kun. As I always do,” his smile doesn’t waver, a hint of smugness behind the soft look as he pulls the chips toward him. “Of course, if you’d like to try your luck, we could always go again!”

“Fuck no,” Souda whines, grabbing his beanie, pulling it over his eyes in distress, before dragging his hands down his face. He rips his beanie off, raking a hand through messy, dyed pink. “You have to be freaking kidding me. That was out of my paycheck I got _today_ , you know! I don’t _have_ shit to go another round.”

“Apologies,” he says, waving his hands in the air in defense. “But rules _are_ rules. Money bet on the floor is no longer yours once you put it in the pile. You know how much the boss hates it when we break rules.”

“ _Bitch_ ,” Souda mutters under his breath, looking aside with a childish pout, before finally looking up at Komaeda again. “You’re the worst. Just the _worst_. Can’t you just let me win? Once? Maybe? You’re like...frickin’ rich or something, aren’t you? Come _on_. I won’t tell anyone! You’ll still be undefeated!”

“I believe we both know that is a lie, Souda-kun,” Komaeda answers, far too nicely for the underlying sentiment. They both know well that Souda could not keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

The resulting pout is endearing, and a bit funny. Komaeda can’t stifle the laugh in the back of his throat.

“You’re some kind of _demon_ , I swear,” Souda complains, pushing his chair back as he stands up with an irate force. “Whatever! I’m going to go get a drink. I need one, before I get nagged back to my shift.”

“Want me to pay it off?”

“Don’t you start having pity on me _now_!” Souda shouts, folding his arms over his chest. He looks like he’s about to refuse and storm off, but then, his expression softens, eyebrows slanted. He clears his throat. “But like. I’m not gonna stop you, or anything...”

Komaeda just smiles and hands over a few bills. Souda takes them, after a moment’s hesitation.

“...You want something, dude? Like, you’re kind of an ass, but you’re still nice sometimes, so,” he scratches at his neck, trying to make up some words. He doesn’t seem to come up with much worthwhile. “Whatever, you know. You’re a pal.”

“No, that’s alright, Souda-kun. You know how awful my tolerance is,” Komaeda shakes his head. “I would make an embarrassment of myself, while on the job, too. Not that I don’t already embarrass myself by simply existing...but, it’s best to keep some reputation, isn’t it? Though, I thank you greatly for the offer.”

“Suit yourself. Good luck,” Souda claps his hand on his back, startling him a bit. Then he elbows his shoulder, nodding his head forward. “Oh, look, looks like you already got someone interested. He’s...kinda creepy though. Uh. Enjoy that, dude. See ya.”

Souda waves him off, which Komaeda returns gently, before turning to face his table again, and whoever this “creepy” stranger is.

He feels his breath catch in his throat, as if the air was abruptly stolen from his lungs.

The chair creaks softly as it’s pulled back, settling on the carpet as the man before him takes his seat. Dressed in a finely tailored suit, fitting him perfectly, with long, cascading hair, that looks like it must feel like silk.

“I was told you’re undefeated,” is the eerie, level greeting. It’s emotionless, the words come out flat and disinterested. “That you’re...lucky. Is that correct?”

“...Aha. Yes. That’d be me,” Komaeda says with a wave of his hand. Struggling to maintain eye contact, beneath the unwavering gaze of red that’s staring him down, he instead swipes his hand over the remaining cards, cleaning up his previous game. “Are you interested? Fortunately, there’s no game going on at this table, so you could happily try your luck with me…” he trails off, hoping for a name from this mysterious stranger.

“I am called...Kamukura Izuru,” he answers easily, looking at him beyond a long, dark strand of hair that rests between his eyes. “Interested...if you’d like to call it that, then I am.”

Komaeda can’t resist the urge to wet his lips, tongue darting out in a subtle movement as he shuffles the cards between his palms.

“Wonderful! Haha,” Komaeda laughs, far too giddy. Something feels _wonderful_ about this man. He has no idea what it is, but just the mere feeling of his gaze on him...Komaeda wants to shudder in response. He’s never seen someone so beautiful, who’s presence is so...indescribable. He feels compelled to worship him, to get on his knees...

“Komaeda. That’s your name, correct?”

He shakes away his sinful thoughts, not wanting to get ahead of himself setting the deck down. Knowing the camera is going to be on him, he attempts to calm himself, to avoid looking so pathetic.

“Komaeda Nagito. I’d be delighted if you remembered it,” Komaeda says, placing his hands on the table. “After all, with my unbeatable lucky streak...such a name will go down in infamy, won’t it?”

“Luck…” Kamukura trails off, as if intrigued even the slightest by that word. And yet, he sounds utterly bored. “We’ll see about that.”

Komaeda cackles, unpleasant sounding, pitched far too high that it couldn’t possibly grate at your ears.

“I do love a challenge, Kamukura-kun.”

Smoothly, he slides the cards out on the table, dealing a pair of cards for both of them, and laying out five in the confines embedded on the green surface.

“How much would you like to place for the blinds, Kamukura-kun?” Komaeda asks, rounding the chips back up. His fingers fiddle with a black chip, noting how the engraving of “10,000” in a contrasting red remind him much of the man sitting before him.

“...It matters little to me,” he answers. “You decide.”

“I’m feeling rather daring, Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda’s voice drops to a purr, and he feels a shiver of excitement crawl up his spine. His eyes admire the chip in his palm for a moment longer, before he gives Kamukura a crazed grin. “Would you be interested in high stakes?”

He drops the 10,000 yen chip onto the table.

Kamukura cocks his head back, his hair falling into one of his eyes as he stares down at the chip. It seems to bother him little, that he conceivably can’t see out of one.

  
“Is that all?”

Komaeda has to keep his pitiful laugh from turning into a pathetic-sounding moan, as it bubbles up his throat. His legs feel weak, as if about to buckle beneath him, which surely isn’t normal Perhaps he’s gotten ill, again.

“Aha…” Komaeda bites his lip, still grinning. “ _Daring_ , Kamukura-kun. But what an opportunity this is. I’ve won my fair share, today, I suppose there’s no harm in betting big.”

A handful of black chips clink onto the pile. Kamukura matches it.

“A worthwhile bet,” Komaeda muses, picking up his hand, waiting for Kamukura to do so as well. “Let us begin, shall we?” 

He examines his cards. 

Two and seven off-suit.

He’s won with this awful hand before, many times, in fact - so it bothers him very little. In fact, he always enjoys a game much more when his hand is terrible. It makes it more exciting, more thrilling, to overcome such an unlucky deal.

After all, it matters more what’s in the flop, than what’s in his hand…

“How exciting,” Komaeda hums, reaching over to flip the first card.

A ten of spades.

Kamukura’s poker face, Komaeda realizes, is infinitely better than his. In fact, no hint of emotion lies behind his eyes as he stares down the card, meanwhile...Komaeda pouts.

He reveals the other two.

A seven of hearts, and queen of spades.

“What an interesting deal we have, Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda grins. 

_It seems I’ll be going for another full house_. One of the rarest hands, when built with 2’s and 7’s, and yet it bothered him very little. After all, his luck was otherworldly— _god-like_ , he might dare to think. There was a reason he was undefeated. No one had as much fortune as him, and as much _misfortune_ as well.

He would never lose at silly little games like this. Games he was so much bigger than. That his _luck_ was so much bigger than.

“It’s boring,” Kamukura states. “I predicted as much.”

Komaeda doesn’t have the sense to question that. Though it’s intriguing. As if something left up to pure luck could be predicted—Komaeda finds it laughable. 

“I hope you’re feeling as well as I am,” Komaeda begins, running his fingers over the pile of chips sitting before him. He taps the stack of black, glimmering chips with curiosity. “Since it’s time to bet. Would you like to up these stakes even higher, Kamukura-kun? I’m happy to do so.”

“...You’re not very subtle,” Kamukura states flatly, looking at him over his hand, before gathering a handful of black chips from his pile. “Go on, then. Raise.”

Komaeda giggles unpleasantly, matching Kamukura’s bet. “ _Call_ ,” he hums, feeling his shoulders tremble with a shiver of excitement.

He reaches over, revealing the next card.

A two of hearts.

_Just as expected_ , Komaeda wants to sing, unable to keep from laughing quietly to himself as he holds his hand. _And if my luck reigns true, a seven lies waiting for me in the river_. 

Kamukura’s brows raise. Komaeda has to wonder just what it’s in reaction to.

“Shall we further these stakes?” he asks, noting the gathered audience, watching intently. This is quite commonplace during his one-on-one matches. That’s why his table is at the center of the floor, after all.

“For your sake, I believe it would be wise not to. Check,” Kamukura says, the words smug but his tone flat, and he lays his cards facing down. “The sooner we get to the showdown, the better.”

“If you say so, Kamukura-kun. Check,” he repeats, setting his cards down. Then, he’s quick to reach over to the final card in the flop. He turns it over.

_Ace of spades_.

“Ah-?”

Komaeda feels himself freeze up, his movements stutter as he stares wide-eyed at the river. There’s hushed murmurs surrounding him.

...Two pair. Is that what he’s been saddled with? Well, he’s won with it before, so he could relax, theoretically. It may not be a full, proper hand, but he’s won with all odds against him, relying simply on a high card. His luck likes to toy with him like this, send him back and forth between highs and lows.

“I believe it is showdown time,” Kamukura tells him, which brings him back from his moment of despair. 

“How worthless,” Komaeda sighs, flipping his hand over. “It seems I’ve got a mere two pair. How unlucky, isn’t it? You’d think it beneath me…but the truth is, my luck is _abysmal_ , Kamukura-kun.”

This is, of course, playing it up, for the enjoyment of those watching. After all, he still takes a deep breath, and prepares himself to see whatever is in Kamukura’s hands. It must be terrible, _embarrassing_ , even, to be beaten by a two pair. He almost hates himself for outplaying the radiant man sitting before him, but part of him hopes that it will be impressive enough to astound Kamukura, who has yet to show him a shred of emotion.

Still has yet to, that is. He stares at Komaeda’s hand, unimpressed, and lets out a sigh that sounds halfway like a scoff.

“Pathetic.”

The word breaks whatever vestige of self-control Komaeda had, that was managing to keep him together for the sake of public image. Oh, well, it’s not as if most of their regular patrons knew how truly deplorable he was. It should come to the surprise of very few when Komaeda hugs himself, as if trying to keep _some_ stronger reaction at bay, laughing quietly.

“I’m intrigued, Kamukura-kun. So much so…” he licks his lips, eyes bright with anticipation. 

Kamukura tilts his head back, looking down his nose. “You claim to have luck, but the best you’ve given me is a two pair,” he says. “How unfortunate for you, that I neglected to tell you something about myself.”

He lays his cards on the table.

“Luck...I have that, too.”

A king of spades, and a jack of spades.

“Royal flush. I suppose that means...I win.”

Komaeda isn’t sure when his jaw fell the way it did, lips parted in an empty gasp. It may have been when Kamukura revealed his hand, or it may have been when he heard the word “luck” slip from those perfect lips.

But his body goes rigid. He...lost. All his certainty shattered in an instant, crumbling beneath his fingertips. He’d lost count of how many high stakes games he’d won, even unconventional, dangerous games, in hidden gambling rings beneath the ground, with his life on the line. And he’d lost for the first time, at a simple gamer of poker...he’d lost at what he was best known for.

Nails dig into the expensive fabric of his dress-shirt, clinging to it as he hugs himself, nearly ripping into it, his entire frame shuddering. And then, he laughs. Crazed, desperate, and _delighted_. 

“I’ve lost,” he cackles, “I’ve _lost!_ You’ve beat me, Kamukura-kun,” his laughter falls into a moan, though it hardly sounds upset. “No, to have luck like that...such powerful whims...you’re far beyond me, _Kamukura-sama_.”

Kamukura’s brow furrows, almost seeming perplexed by this reaction. 

“...You have just had your entire reputation taken from you,” Kamukura states the obvious. “And yet, you’re laughing?”

Komaeda throws his head back, his hands burying into his unruly, white hair.

“Oh, this feels wonderful…” he sighs. “This feeling of defeat...at the hands of someone like you. It’s _exciting_ , Kamukura-sama…!”

Kamukura is quiet for a few beats too many, not that Komaeda has the presence of mind to notice that detail. “...Interesting.”

Too lost in the euphoria of this moment, he can hardly care for the reactions surrounding him, the disbelief that the one known as _Ultimate Luck_ , infamous in all gambling circles, a crown jewel of this casino...was suddenly beat. Right in front of their eyes.

He stands up, clamoring as he leans over the table, attempting to be closer to the dark-haired man.

“ _Kamukura-sama_ …” 

Kamukura does not move an inch, acting unphased by this sudden course of action.

“Please…” Komaeda licks his lips. “Allow me to offer you an even greater reward, on top of my money. Allow me to give you a place to stay...and a chance at a rematch, if you’d allow me to be so selfish, Kamukura-sama…”

_Silence_.

“I have a penthouse suite...it’s quite lavish, something I’m undeserving of, but one of my many prizes I’ve earned,” Komaeda begins, trembling with a shaky sigh. “You’re free to stay in it, and visit any time you wish… after all, you’ve beaten me. But you could always try your luck again, Kamukura-sama. Any time you wish...even tonight.”

Silence, still. Kamukura’s eyes wander over him, as if analyzing his being. Then, he finally speaks.

“I will consider your offer, Komaeda Nagito.”

And about as suddenly as he appeared, he got up, and exited the floor, disappearing from view. Without even…

Komaeda gasps, standing upright.

His _prize_. All that money he’d just earned, he neglected to collect it.

“He’ll _have_ to see me again, won’t he?” Komaeda laughs, talking to himself as he begins to clean up the remnants of their game. “This money is legally his, no longer mine...it will have to find its way to him eventually, as luck should have it.”


End file.
